Breakdown
by ScoreCounter
Summary: Things are rarely resolved the first time - as one detective/prosecutor knows. Sometimes, the obvious must be stated, and often, it's a matter of why. Why did Clive go to all that trouble? What if... something strange occoured, and all of a sudden... things didn't go to plan. Spoilers for Lost/Unwound Future and Azran Legacies. Slightly manipulated timeline.
1. Recording 1: Hershel Layton

**DISCLAIMER: **_I claim no ownership over the Professor Layton series or it's plots or characters, whom belong to Level-5. However, Joshua Holmes. is, to an extent, original.  
This is a work of fiction. Names, Places and Events are not intended to resemble those of real life, and any similarities are coincidence.  
_

_..._

**Breakdown**

**Chapter One: Hershel**

"For the purposes of the tape, I, Prosecutor Joshua Holmes, have officially started the recording, and therefore the interview, of one Hershel Layton. Please, firstly, state your name, gender, age and occupation." Joshua, carefully observing the top hat donning man in front of him, mentally sighed. Why he started interviews like that, he had no idea, but… well, clarification.

Slowly, the person sat opposite him raised his head. "My name is Hershel Layton - Male, 37. I am a professor of archaeology at Gressenheller University." Layton slowly observed the room – it was a small, dark place, a single, black table, on the other side of which sat the tall, skinny figure of the Prosecutor – hair swept around, but not over, his left eye, and smallish cape left off to the side. His green eyes focused on the Professor ahead.

"Right, now that is all over – away with formality…" Layton looked slightly taken aback by the strange change in attitude. "…Heh. Apologies about that. Anyways, I do have to remain a little strict so – you are aware that this questioning is about the crimes of an individual called Clive Dove?" Hershel nodded – causing Joshua to grunt. "To clarify, the witness has nodded. Now, when I refer to any questions, I would like you not to allude to Incident 392T, due to the suspect's age at the time."

"…I understand." Joshua nodded appreciatively, as he slowly brought his training into play.

"Right. Now, firstly, how would you describe your relationship with the suspect?"

"… Acquaintance. I travelled with him and ultimately got involved with his… plot." Instantly, Joshua's senses came into play.

`A slight pause on `plot`, drop in tone, and a slight dip on the left eyelid… signs of discomfort…`

"Layton. Please develop on your involvement within said plot." Joshua was already dead set.

"I… was asked to visit an elaborate set up of an alternative London, wherein he had… abducted scientists in order to – construct a machine to destroy the city."  
Already Joshua was quite clearly bored. "Layton! Cease this dull hesitation and speak properly."

"No need to be so rash. Whilst I agree, Clive should be able to get his release and atonement; I would like to know what you are pursuing."

"Clear and simple, Hershel. Why did Clive and Dimitri construct an entire replica of London?"

He had to admit, it was the first time he had pondered this question. It did seem a tad – extraneous, to build an entire fake city just for the porpoise of…

"Surely – Surely that's impossible…"

"Want to build a super weapon, kidnap a bunch of scientists. Do a small set in the future, perhaps, but… not that elaborate."

Layton was forced to admit – the entirety of London was a tad extreme, not to mention unnecessary. And even then, for Clive, the whole `Future London` thing wasn't even a valid point. "That was more to satisfy Dimitri's needs, though."  
"Yes… but what if he was planning on simply destroying the `Future London`?"

"Hmm… It doesn't change the fact that he destroyed a whole city."

"And that is what I'm thinking – what if Dove didn't actually destroy London?"

Now this was getting absurd. But before Layton had chance to speak, Joshua stood up, and gestured towards the door, before brazenly marching through it.

"It's nice, this part of the department. Peaceful… oh, and I can do whatever I like with it. Layton had found himself walked over to the young prosecutor's office, which was more of a cubicle, and completely black. "Oh, don't act so confused. What was it that he said to you? Ah, yes, `Get Elightened!`" Layton flinched, knowing exactly who he was on about. Slowly, the lights in the room flickered on, showing a complex web of thoughts strung together by short bands of blue light, connected at the centre. In which, the solid orb of projected light was split into multiple smaller sections, slowly sliding over one another. "So, Layton – solve this for me. Please?" Slowly, Joshua swung a shard of black light over in his direction, with a rather… interesting problem on it.

_You have three men standing in front of you. You know some things about each of them, to say the least. One is your sworn rival, whom you know would be a good leader, but you have the worst blood between you. Another is one who unintentionally wronged you, but would go along with anything._

_Finally, the third you would trust with your life. But his presence would not bode well._

_Whoever is alive in 180 seconds time is the ruler of a nation._

_You have a sword. Use your imagination._

"Hmm? But this is…"

"It's not designed to be solvable, Layton. Think about it – who would you leave alive?" Quickly, he pulled up a small screen in front of him, coloured blood red. He initiated the designated program:

-Resolution-  
+Questioning Begin+

"How is this conductive at all? I mean, it's not as if Clive were in this situation."

"_The inverse is true, Layton. Clive had the position of Kingmaker. Let me change it slightly. Whom do you think the first person is?"_

"Bill Hawks, obviously. I take it the third person is me then?"

"_Naturally. However, How many people did he kill?"_

**Sharp Intake Of Breath. Provoker Found – "1 Of 3"**

"_Got that. Now, that is not a solution to the problem – so, why do you think he actually invited you?"_

"He said that he almost wanted me to prevent his plan from completing."

"_Which is true."_

"Indeed. But wouldn't anyone say that?"

_**Stress Spike on 'Anyone`. Provoker: Standard of Criminals**_

"_I suppose so. But, didn't he have a lot of reasons for that?"_

Layton's mind flashed back to Hawk's scolding. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"_So, in other words, the only reason he did this was really against Bill Hawks? No-one else?"_

"In terms of London. He obviously figured the destruction of his time machine would be punishment enough…"

**PROVOKE: **_"So, he made you the theoretical ruler?"  
"_I… Suppose so…"

Solution Found

-Questioning End-

Joshua smiled grimly. "Well… I suppose that explains one or two things at least. You're free to go, Hershel." Taken aback at the harshness, and the use of his first name, Layton solemnly walked out, wondering where the stranger's mind was floating. 

Chapter One END  
(Please, tell me... what do you think I'm doing Right or Wrong?)


	2. Recording 2: Luke Triton

**Breakdown**

_Chapter Two: Luke_

Delicately, Joshua pulled away the chair and sat opposite the young boy opposite him. Sure, Luke was reasonably strong, emotionally, but nonetheless, he was young, and needed to be treated like the metaphorical golden goose, lest he be kicked out of the country… again.

He sat there, patiently, waiting for the boy to be ready to start. Slowly, yet confidently, he saw an almost solemn nod from the other party. Gently, he depressed the button. "This is Prosecutor Joshua Holmes, starting the recording. Witness… state your name, age, gender, and occupation." His pronunciation was firm and deliberate, yet calmer and softer than it was before.  
Slowly, Luke brought himself to speak, cap discarded to the side of the table. "Luke… Triton… Thirteen-year-old boy…" He was lost for words.  
"I think it would be safe to say…" - Joshua paused for emphasis – "…that you have no occupation to speak of. Am I right?" Luke nodded. "I see. The witness just nodded, for the tape."

"Before we start on the details of the actual case, I need to confirm – do you feel comfortable elaborating on your companionship with one Hershel Layton?" Luks shook his head vehemently. "I see. In that case, I would like you to talk about…" Joshua knew the best way to get to younger people would be to press the details."…the changes in demeanour and emotions of the suspect around the time before the crime and shortly after his accusation." Once again, he pulled up a transparent screen in front of him – yet this time it shone a faint blue.

**-Begin Questioning-  
Change and Revolution**

"Hmm…" At the question, Luke brightened and straightened slightly – "I don't think that he was acting that entire time – yet the way he reacted afterwards made it seem like he was…"  
"That's understandable. But, yet, you think that he was acting at some point?"  
"…I… Think so…" _**Erroneous detail: What was the act?  
**_"And he switched… how?"  
"He… laughed. Loudly, mind… but when he talked… he sounded… well, only smug."  
"…Hmm?! Wait, so you mean… he laughed, and then suddenly stopped?"  
"I'm quite sure he did…"  
"Hey, if you're struggling for a name, you could just call me Josh."  
"What?" `(Quiet, yet still a tad shocked…)  
"Seriously. Spiked hair, coloured blue, and you think I'm a through and through professional?"  
"Josh… I see… but what is this all about?"  
"Most people who act things out have multiple discrepancies in their fake selves. So, to discover which persona of Clive's is fake… we should seek out what's wrong. Now, it says in your file that you can comprehend animals."  
"It's strange… but yes. I can… quite easily actually." Luke smiled.  
"That's due to your elevated perception of emotions. So, I can ask you things that others wouldn't notice. So… what seemed odd?" _**Commencing Resolution: What was the act?**_

"It was strange – up until the point before the whole meeting with the professor, he seemed completely normal… wait? I think I remember him acting oddly before the point at which we went in…"  
"Oddly? How would you mean?"  
"Well, when we ran into him on our way out, he seemed… quiet."  
"Yes! That's what I want! Details like that…" _**Discrepancy: Withdrawal  
**_"You said something about his laugh…"  
"Ah! Yes, of course. His laugh was cut off…" _**Discrepancy: Shut-Off Laugh **_"…and did anything seem off about how he was standing?"  
"I'm not too sure… he didn't look too bothered in his standing… although he was a little crouched after he… well, changed, and… whilst he was dragging out Flora…"  
"How crouched?"  
"Only slightly – it didn't really feel like anything…"  
"Very slight crouching… subconscious gesture, not confident, indicates…"

_**Prior Withdrawal + Shut off Laugh = Played Role  
Played Role + Subconscious Lack of Confidence =**_

Joshua slowly leaned into his chair. "Subordinate."

_**Questioning End  
-Clive Was A Subordinate-**_

"Of course… Clive, at least at this point, wasn't actually the highest in the chain. He was merely playing his assigned role… which actually gives me a small bit of a hint…"  
"A hint? About what?"  
"When I was questioning the good professor, we noted that the professor himself was, in a way, left in charge. Now, this isn't because he was – we both know that – but, he was in one heck of a Kingmaker scenario… "  
"So… he intended for the professor to take him into the station?"  
"Well, after Claire went to save him, I suppose so. It is now my solid belief – that he was being threatened."

**3 Hours Later**

"… You're surprisingly good at this, Luke… Have you been practicing?"  
"N-n-no! Not at all! I don't even know how-!"  
"Hush now." Joshua leant forward. "Now… show me what you've got…"  
"Hmph…" Luke threw his hand down.  
Joshua smirked. "Damn. More than I thought. I only got a two pair." Next to Luke's arm, were a heart and diamond of 3, and 5's of spades, clubs and diamonds. …"Full house. Nice."  
"How…"  
"It matters not. I'm flush out of chips, beside."

All of the sudden, there was a knock at the door. "Ah. That'll be your father. Now, I will likely have to pull you in again-"Luke flushed. "-heh. Don't panic, I'm sure it'll be fine. Casual like this one, yeah?"  
"…Yeah…" With a slight smile, Luke walked out, Joshua's unwavering gaze upon him. All of a sudden, Joshua's phone rang. "Joshua... Ah, Mister Edgeworth…"

* * *

**Notes: That bit at the end is not meant to be indication of a crossover... sorry 'bout that. It's a small bit of self referencing humour towards one of my AA stories, 921. In other words, I'm agreeing with the crossover game - the two universes are one and the same.**


	3. Recording 3: Clive Dove

_**Breakdown**_

_**Chapter Three:  
**__**Pressing The Point: Clive Dove**_

"Interview commenced! Accused, state your name, age, gender , occupation and the crime of which you are accused!" Joshua was very eccentric and out of his chair, for one reason – finally, he had a reason to have at this. Well, that, and the accused was – well, the accused, meaning he was hooked up to seventeen different shockers, meaning that Joshua would finally see some entertainment. Why he loved dishing out a little torture was beyond him, but oh well – it was well intentioned torture at the least. Quickly, he paced from the door and around the table, sitting down whilst grinning madly.

"… Clive Dove. Sixteen years, male – newspaper journalist, accused of terrorism… and treason against the crown." Joshua looked at him slightly confused; after all, it was against Hawks in particular – then again, it was London – and Bill Hawks did seem particularly eager to have the young boy sent down – and against the crown was a guarantee to have him put on trial as an adult.  
"Right. Now, I'll be fair with you. I believe you're innocent. However, this is far from being proven – nonetheless, there should be no need for the shockers. However, I do find that this thing… can enhance someone's memory slightly. So… who did you receive orders from?"

"Pardon? I… don't know what you're talking about." And not only was he hesitant, but he grabbed his right wrist with his left arm at the same time. All of a sudden, a sharp pain flashed through his right leg. "Ah!"  
"I don't take kindly to lying. And you're transparent at it, just so you know." Joshua looked twice his age as he fixed his jade coloured eyes upon the young boy – even if he was pretty much the same age as the other person in the room. "Who were you taking orders from? Please, tell me now."  
Clive shrank down in his seat. Joshua just sighed. Slowly, he pulled out a wad of small slips. "Okay. Was it this one?" He threw one of the photos down. No reaction. Wordlessly, he threw more and more of the photos down, until he saw what he was looking for – a single tear. "Found you. You've never seen or heard who it was who `repossessed` your plan, but you were forced to play along with it… so…"

_**+Questioning Begin+  
**__Reaching The Top_

"So? This is a bit of a waste of time, isn't it? Why don't you just begin my trial?"  
"Because…" Josh applied a small shock to the arm – "I need the truth. If I don't have the truth, then I can't exactly survive – to an extent, quite literally. Now – It is my understanding that, to begin with, you were in charge of the operation – and were planning on destroying the forgery of London at it's culmination - to then return both Bill Hawks and Dimitri Allen to their normal lives at the next available opportunity."  
Clive's fist met the desk. "What does that change? I still destroyed a good part of London…"  
**Detail Confirmed: Future London Destruction  
**"True, but – and this is important – were you actually initiating the actions of the destruction."

Upon Joshua hitting a large button, stimulating Clive's nerves, Clive… had a recollection.

_He was standing there, at the controls. It was shortly after he had informed the Professor and the rest of his travelling party of Bill's… special state. He didn't kike lying like that – but, well, Bill Hawks, or Dimitri at least would be conscious. Anyway, he just focused his eyes on the screens in front of him, continuing on with his plan. Sure, the y co-ordinate on the screen was a tad off – but, he had no choice now – to cancel this attack would mean an awful lot of things would go wrong – he checked the programming – any recalls, and the detonation mechanism would automatically activate. _

_Sure, the night sky was out – but, he had just knocked away most of the high intensity lamps on the ceiling – and not to mention cut off the electricity supply in the local area. So… he kept going. Although, he did hope that the Professor hurry up and resolve this entire situation. After all, running around destroying the entire city was starting to wear quite thin. He was, however, slightly unsettled by the screaming around him – it was louder than he had hoped, but, well… everyone has technical mess-ups sometimes._

_Then, as expected, the screen started flashing red. Clive half smiled, but, it wouldn't do to drop the act. After a few seconds of rapidly punching at the controls, he stumbled over to the balcony – and looked on in slight shock. He saw… London. Where he was expecting to see 777, he saw a normal hotel – a regular haunt of his._

"_How is this happening… It can't end this way…It won't end this way!"_

_With this cry to whomever forced this upon him, he passed out. When he regained consciousness, he was being helped out… and when he asked her why…  
She had seen the files. Every last one. But, she knew – to interfere – would interrupt the flow of time._

Clive doubled over, panting. Joshua, eyes closed, sat there, expression neutral, breathing deeply. Then, he smiled. "So, Clive…. Do you feel like you can testify to that? Sorry about using that by the way." Clive, in spite of everything, laughed. Honestly this time. And, unsurely, Joshua joined him in said honesty. It was kind of ironic – now, that whoever had a vendetta against the government had used Clive as a scapegoat – however tangled the web was – it's strings were falling. So, both of the men gave their first honest laugh in years. Looking at each other, Joshua just gave him a look of determinate resolution – this was it now. He didn't give a damn if this was his final case in England – at least, for the time… by hell, he would enjoy this.

… Oh, I almost forgot.

_**Questioning End  
Determination Found**_

* * *

_**Notes: If Clive were 16 now, that would make him 6 – unless its 15 years, in which case – oops. Also, funny thing, I was listening to the recreation of the E3 trailer for SSB4 – guess where the music suddenly grew within my head? Anyway, thanks for all the support!**_


	4. Confidential Interview - 001

_**Breakdown**_

_**Chapter Four:  
**__**Jean Descolé**_

Joshua walked down the corridor, caffeine pipe in his face. "And the lot at HQ thought I was on about Paul… hmph!" He smirked. "Looks like they can be a little thick. "Oh well… time to track him down." Joshua had seen the records – missing, presumed dead after what came to be known as The Fall of the Legacy… Although, it wouldn't have been the first time he'd have pulled a vanishing act – not to mention he had been `spotted` a few times here and there. However, simply knowing that he was alive was one thing, getting him to agree to the interview was another. He did want to remain dead, for all intents and purposes. So, naturally, he made a deal. The reason that he wanted to interview the man was twofold. Firstly, he had access to information that was key to the case – being one of the few people who wholly studied the Legacy… and, he was there, in London, at the time – provably, in fact. After all, he had been seen by a certain blue-haired prosecutor.

"So what is it you want?" The voice on the other side of the phone was reasonably harsh.  
"Simple. Information. And, before you ask, I offer complete anonymity and immunity, and free access to the archives regarding the Azran Civilisation."  
"… Why would you give me that?" The voice was much more smug now.  
"Because… It just so happens… I need the same information. So… arrive at the alleyway beside the café opposite Scotland Yard at 11:59, sharpish. I'll join you shortly after. Ensure you're alone."  
After stating the obvious, Joshua wryly flicked the phone off, leaving Descolé with the dial tone.

"Wow, a minute early." Joshua, if it were anyone else, or at any other time, would have left the man to wait – but since he was in an impatient mood anyways, and two impatient men in the room at the same time is never a good idea, he flicked the shutter, slowly moving the slab of concrete on which the man was standing down. "Good morning, Descolé. Nice and private, don't you think?"  
"And this place would be?" Ah, he looked and sounded the same as ever – still sporting the mask.  
"Descolé – I would like to introduce you to the restricted archive of Scotland Yard – a place which… as a high ranking prosecutor… I effectively own." Whilst he was saying all this, he was conducting an array of retinal and palm print scans, before slicing his licence card into the lock.  
"Prosecutor Holmes…" A robotic, genderless voice boomed into the room. Joshua grunted.  
"Okay, RONI – one, why are you speaking in that tone – and two, Joshua, please."  
The voice switched to a neutral, female voice. "Sorry, Joshua. Is there anyone you are escorting inside?" Descolé held his breath.  
"Record on private servers – Jean Descolé, my eyes only."  
"Confirmed." The door slid open, revealing a series of blue, red and black touchscreen monitors, and a table with two chairs. Other than that, once again, a pitch black room.

"So what do you want me to tell you - I'm afraid I can't offer much help in the way of testimony – "  
"Not at all. In fact, I want you to see something." Joshua beckoned Descolé over to a red monitor labelled `active cases` and another, `confidential researches`. "Creative naming, don't you think?"

After a few minutes of flicking around, he brought up all the data on the Azran… and a file – specifically, one showing the original designs for the weaponry on the large machine. Two revisions of it, in fact. Slowly, he backed away from the monitors, allowing Descolé to see. Instantly, he got a reaction. Panicking a little, he raced to bring up another questioning screen – this time, white.

_**+Questioning Begin+  
**__Variations on a Theme_

Almost as if a child with a new found toy, Descolé hurriedly switched back and forth between the revisions, keeping his gaze fixed on one point of the weapon. Quickly, he flicked through the research, looking for something specific. Suddenly, a humanoid object popped up on the screen, with which he zoomed in on one particular point. He did something similar to the weapon's second revision, pointing out the same selection of components "What…" Although belated, the sentiment was understood.  
"Is that doing there?"  
"Indeed… this particular technology was buried the moment it was unveiled – all of the world's governments sealed it away. It should have been impossible to recreate with this precision…"  
"I see…" _**Point of thought: The technology was hidden away? **_"In this exact room, to be precise."  
"So it would have to be someone with access to this room, correct?"  
"Incorrect. This research was sent to quite a few places around the globe, so I can't make any guarantees about that – and said places don't have as airtight security as this place does. Any criminal instruction worth their salt could get their hands on this."  
"Well that's useful."  
"… It is actually." The other man grunted. "Well, no matter what, it would have needed a significant amount of power to do this – not just money… man power – willing man power."  
"… I… think I see what you mean."  
"Of course you do. Now, I promised you free access."  
"You want me out of here, don't you?"  
"Not at all. You had my word, after all. RONI will help out, I'm sure. Tell her to send anything important to me, though, yeah?"  
"And what if someone else comes here?"  
"… I own this place. I have very high doubts as to anyone else being allowed down here." Joshua, still smirking wildly, left the room, carrying the pale screen with him. Quickly dragging the info around, he ended the – short – questioning session.

_**Questioning End  
Person of Great Power**_

"Well – how many criminal organisations do you know that are obsessed with the Azran, RONI?"  
"One, Joshua. I don't think I need to give you their name."  
"No, you don't. I wonder how much she knows about Targent…" Joshua laughed quietly as he left the bunker…

* * *

_**Notes: Two things, first, thanks for the support! Secondly:**_

_**Who's Next?**_  
_**Figured I'd do this in-article this time. Who do you think should be put Under The Knife next time?**_  
_**You have two choices – See Emmy Altava pressed on the finer points of Targent**_  
_**OR see Joshua Holmes pressed on his conduct, leading to a deduction or two.**_  
_**The poll is on my profile page. You can vote once for either party. The poll will remain open until at least 4:30 PM GMT on Wednesday the 23**__**rd**__** of April 2014. Votes made after this time may not count, but I highly doubt they'll be charged (but if it takes you over your ISP's limit…). The vote will be blind, and naturally, there is no age limit. There are no T+C hoo-hah to check, so go ahead!**_


	5. Information Requisition - Emmy Altava

_**Breakdown**_

_**Chapter Five:  
**__**`Emmy Altava`**_

"…Well, I suppose it's as close as I'm going to get…" Joshua looked at the young woman sitting outside in the corridor, waiting for her interrogation to begin. Names were a fickle thing it seemed, in this case. Some were hidden, some were changed, swapped and adopted… it could just be that that was the solution to this case. A changed name. "Well, that would be intriguing… And awfully cliché." All of a sudden, the door leading to the questioning chamber opened. "Well… time to have a look around…"

Emmy, for the sake of clarity, sat down in the somewhat-brightly lit chamber, facing both the prosecutor, and, through a window, an apparent friend of his – however, she suspected there was more to it than that – short, red hair, fairly young, younger than Luke at a guess, although only just… nonetheless, it wasn't something worth lingering on. 

"Emmy Altava, as you, for now, will be known, are being questioned on a criminal syndicate that you have known to have a heavy involvement in, known as Targent. Firstly, do you refute this?"  
"Not at all." Despite the situation, she kept smiling and speaking somewhat cheerfully.  
"Thank you. Now, I must ask – how are you coping with all this?"  
"Is this appropriate?"  
"Completely. I need to know your emotional state so I can accurately track how you feel towards certain statements – in a way, its procedure. Nonetheless, we should move on, so… describe your position within the syndicate."  
"… I suppose I could be called a spy. It was my job to collect information on Professor Hershel Layton whilst he was investigating the Azran civilisation. I was cared for by the then leader of the organisation - Leonel Bronev."  
"Then leader?"  
"Well, I say leader – he wasn't in entire control of the organisation…"  
"…That's new… So Leonel Bronev was merely in charge of the ground forces?" 

_**Begin Questioning  
Hierarchy**_

"Well, that wouldn't be true… after all, he was at the highest rank – it was more like, if this other person wanted to, he could seize control at any time…" **Provoker: Supervisor?  
**"Ah, I see… now, ignoring this supervisor, you're saying that Leonel was once at a lower rank?"  
"He was firstly abducted as a researcher – he climbed the ranks after that." **Provoker: Up riser?  
**"So, in other words, he was disliked?" Emmy flashed the young boy a look, as if to put the `ass` in `u` and `me`.  
"Well, no… not really… but some people resented the fact he got delivered to the top…"  
"It's only natural. Now – I must ask… were you involved in the incident ten years ago, in any way?"  
"Not directly. But, at the time, I was sorting the accounts for Targent, who were also investigating the power technology."  
"So someone from Targent was involved in the experiments, and likely consorted with Bill Hawks to sell the technology?"  
"I… think so."  
"So why aren't you surprised?"  
"What?"  
"I just told you a major figure in British politics was involved in a beyond murky scheme, and you don't bat an eyelid? Were you one of the other lab assistants, alongside Claire?"  
"Nice guess. Indeed, I was heavily involved with that incident as well. I wasn't there when the explosion happened, but I was working at the lab at the time. Needless to say, I think the entire thing was unfortunate – but there was no other way he would have it." _**Provoker: Forced Explosion**_

"Targent seems to have been involved with a lot of this, don't you think?"  
"I wouldn't say that…"  
"But it's obvious. There are hints to their involvement everywhere. Your involvement ten years ago, access to information that only an organisation that Targent would be able to access…"  
"But then the fact that we're not obsessed with world destruction."  
"But is Targent at least involved now, even a little?"  
"I wouldn't know! I dismissed myself after the Fall of the Legacy to care for Uncle Leon…"  
"But it would be safe to say that they were interested in the technology for some reason?"  
"Yes."

Joshua immediately paced to the other end of the room impatiently, and grabbed a small screen again. Flicking through the files, he presented a schematic to the woman. "Like this one?"  
"… Yes… most likely."  
"Then, I'm afraid – whomever took over Targent – is officially involved."

**Questioning End  
**Involvement Assured, Not Ass-u-me-d

After he closed the window, he looked up to the window, noticing for the first time his red-haired companion. "Ugh… Emmy, you're free to go… I have to deal with something." Face like a rainstorm, he marched outside, and started shouting quite comically at the boy outside. Emmy couldn't help but laugh.

Joshua poked his head through the door before walking in. The snide, high pitched voice that usually comforted him spoke first. "Hey Josh! Long-time, no see!"  
"Brother, what the hell are you doing here! Is this the chief mocking me again!"  
"Astute as always, brother. He wanted me to give you this."  
"Summoned… disciplinary… Damn!" He snapped his fingers before bringing his hand sharply down on the windowsill. "Damn you Hilton Holmes!"  
"Wow, Full Sunday Names – I must have really got on you nerve this time!"  
"Hilton – I am saying this as your brother – have you got what might possibly want at this point in time?"  
The younger boy laughed. "Thought you might ask that. Here. Even got Orange zest in it… ugh." As he said this, he brought out a small smoking pipe. "Better than smoking, at any rate."  
Joshua snatched it away, lighting the substance before buffing on it wildly, letting the caffeine fill his system. Usually Hilton would have slipped some lemon in there, but… well, he didn't want to incur the wrath of the devil, after all. 

_**Notes: Yeah, bad chapter. Anyway, no vote this time – I need a disciplinary hearing for my misconduct, never mind Josh…**_


	6. DISAPLINARY HEARING - DePr J-H

**Breakdown  
Additional Chapter: Disciplinary Hearing  
**_Don't let the title fool you – this is important!_

Date Of Hearing: 03/04/20XX  
Time Of Hearing: 15:45  
Leading Officer: Detective Inspector Chelmey  
Officers Involved: Prosecution/Detective Joshua Holmes  
Hearing Regards: Events leading up to and after the trial of Hilton Holmes – Third Hearing

Joshua grunted his disapproval at the words appearing on the screen. First, it was 15:46, the whole fact they bothered with the XX thing, the fact that Chelmey was involved, and the fact that this entire palaver was almost two years old now. All of a sudden, the door opened to the main chair, revealing a tall, almost-old looking woman, with long grey hair… Joshua grinned. Well, at least this wasn't going to take as long now. Quickly, the third row on the board changed.

_Leading Officer: Forensic Detective Naomi Kimishima (USA)_

"Nice to see you again, Naomi."  
"… I suppose I should say the same, Holmes." Joshua immediately took the time to pretend to look hurt – well, he was, but second names at a hearing are sort of paramount. The older woman sighed. "Let's begin the hearing of Prosecutor Holmes. Before we start, is there anything anyone needs to say?" Seriously, why did they bother with these formalities anymore? "First, I would like to ask the accused his interpretation of the events detailed. What happened in that trial?"

"I think that everyone in this hearing is perfectly aware of my actions – the fact of the matter is that on the day before the trial in question, I was somehow heavily drugged – or some other methos of ensuring my temporary disposal – within which time someone, who has since been executed, impersonated me and found sufficient evidence to have my brother on the defendant's stand. On the day of the trial, I simply did my job and prosecuted my younger brother."  
The audience gasped a little. Then, one of the viewing officers piped up. "But how could one impersonate a prosecutor such as you?"

Joshua laughed. "Come on, we all know that that trial is not why I'm here. Let me guess – was it me getting Luke Triton involved in my current case? No, I know what it is; it was my little visit to Germany wasn't it? Both of them, getting a Yank involved in that case…" Naomi nodded solemnly.  
"The board thinks it shows the fact that you, as a person, are irresponsible. Despite it being your first case, the fact of the matter is that…"  
"That I was made the national laughing stock of the force and was practically chased out of this country by the police and the press! And you lot full. Well. Know. That." Joshua was almost hysterical now – he'd thrown his feet up onto the stand and was smirking the wildest he ever had.

"So that's that matter dealt with at the least. Now, moving on – your current case… they're requesting why you haven't moved to prosecute Clive Dove – after all, this is your last case in this country for some time at least."  
"Ugh… How much time must I say it? As a DP, the only one with any balls around here, except perhaps the American –"He saw Naomi smile for a split second – "It's not my job to just prosecute. Yes, indeed, Clive will likely need prosecuting, but not on such a high charge!"  
Hilton, whom had been standing at the back, silent, piped up. "Brother, we both know – and I'm 11 – that the evidence suggesting the current charge is incontrovertible."  
Joshua's face fell. It was true- there was very little room for doubt but – "That has never stopped me before, has it? Brother?"  
"Not unless you were drugged, no." Hilton was a real tease sometimes.  
All of a sudden, Joshua's eyes snapped open. "Wait! Brother, say that again!" He was speaking at a mile per minute once more.  
"I said that it would stop you if you were drugged."

_Except… I was never drugged – but that would stop me from doing what I wanted –  
Someone who is drugged is not in full control of their actions – which means – no wait, his memory was way too good for that – unless that memory was formed – yes, created somehow – that would mean… yes! He could have legitimately thought he was destroying the set if – if it was a simulation… and if it were then he suffered the same thing I did – not drugged – faked… forged…_

_I… remember now… I didn't go full out because I was drugged…  
I went full out because I was persuaded to by my own evidence!  
Because I thought I was prosecuting..._

Joshua's memory broke away before he got to the name. Still, it provided an intriguing concept – not to mention one that Tangent would easily be able to perform… but, naturally, there was still the matter of the…  
"Holmes!"  
"Ah, sorry about that Investigator. I had a thought. What is it?"  
"You understand the consequences of delaying this trial, don't you?"  
"Indeed."  
"Then, I'm afraid I'll have to bring your flight forward. You go to Germany next week."  
Joshua grinned at the supposed `result` - "Thanks very much. If I only have seven days-" Joshua laughed at the half reference- "then, may I get on?"  
"… Hearing Closed."

The self-same words appeared on the screen, and Joshua fled the room… he knew exactly who he needed to question next – `Seven Days? Hmph. Hope my namesakes smiling.` He bounded off to the precinct, running to a specific cell…


	7. Recording 4: Dimitri Allen

_**Breakdown**_

_**Chapter Seven: Dimitri Allen**_

"Well, well, well, look what the lion's brought home. It's just a pity that it's me." The scientist looked Joshua resolutely in the eye, as if challenging the prosecutor.  
"…Whilst you seem one person I would love to interrogate properly, I'm afraid that I need only discuss the lab work you involved in, Allen. And politely request your services." The scientist looked at the detective carefully. "Well? What were you investigating at that lab?"  
"… I doubt you are insulting me, but, in case you really weren't aware, we were indeed investigating time travel."  
"Only time travel?" Dimitri nodded, smiling. "Well, I can't help but find that a little odd. I mean, such a thing is costly, right?" Another nod. "Well, that's definitely odd – I mean theory or no theory, I wouldn't fund a time travel project… unless there was something in it for me?" Dimitri looked taken aback, but no comment. "Let me guess… explosives?" No response. "…Electricals?"… Still nothing. "…Pharmaceuticals?" His left eyebrow flickered slightly. Noticeably, however.

Nonetheless, Joshua just stared at the scientist, his disparaging smile just a tad wider. "I don't understand."  
"Most certainly, I mean, you've said that so many times in this conversation already, shaking you head vehemently – "  
The scientist contemplated the thought for a minute or so… then shrugged his shoulders in defeat – after all, he hadn't been trained by the French in the art of surrendering. "Yes, most correct Prosecutor. Alongside the Time Machine, we were attempting to uncover a … sleeping drug, if you will." Joshua nodded, face much more solemn now.  
"Any luck?" And, for once, he was hoping the answer was negative.  
"… No real success. We experienced difficulties in getting the balance of the compound correct. Well, to begin with. It wasn't until after the incident that we realised the power device on the time machine was… distorting it somehow."

_**Questioning Begin  
Sleeping Drug?  
First Point: Distorted Stability**_

"What did you mean when you say, `distorted`?"  
"Well, the drug wouldn't work correctly. It worked as a knockout, not an anaesthetic… and the side effects were disastrous – a reduced level of focus could last for months after its use." **Point of Thought: Long-Term Side Effects  
**"And normally?"  
"The drug would take much longer to knock someone out – two hours as opposed to instant – and would knock them out for a week if the correct administration was given. And no side-effects at all."  
"So, in other words, the perfect anaesthetic. Except for the power problem. How does that work?"  
"Well, at a few points there is a set of Helium, Oxygen and Potassium atoms all double bonded to one another. For some reason, the energy emitted introduced another bond between the oxygen and the helium, causing the bond between that and the potassium to break. To compensate, the potassium bonds with an O2 particle in the air, resulting in a dramatically different compound, when it happens in six different places." **Point of Thought: O****12 ****added to substance. Second POT: Bond Rearrangement**

"So the O12 dramatically reduces the potency of the compound, whilst forcing its absorption?"  
"That's about correct. But the oxygen remains bonded to the molecule, whilst being carried by the red blood cells in the blood stream. However, this presents a small problem, naturally."  
"…Diffusion."  
"Indeed Prosecutor. The molecule is so large that it cannot be used by the body, but neither can it leave the bloodstream."  
"… Ultimately making it poisonous in this state."  
"It consumes blood cells, rendering them unusable." **Point Of Thought: Lethargy**

**Combine  
Lethargy + Clive Fainting Quickly=  
Victim of the Drug**

**Victim of the Drug + O****12****Added =  
Long-Term-Side Effects on Clive's Part**

**Long Term Side Effects Means…**

"Hmph! Thought so. The drug is still in his system!"

**Questioning End  
Provably KO'D**

"Do you know a test for the drug?"  
"Naturally, there is the obvious one. An oxygenated blood cell is red, whilst deoxygenated blood is blue. And, since this happens to groups of six molecules –"  
"…You bleed the subject through a vein into a deoxygenated chamber, and see if there is a miniscule cluster of blood. Is there any easier way?"  
"… Thankfully. The altered compound reacts with the original compound and rectifies itself, knocking the subject out. For forty-eight hours."  
"… Can you cook some up for me? Please?" Joshua looked on at Dimitri with a joking face.

_**Some Time Later:  
**_The two men stepped forward into the room, like those old crime thriller shows. Or the parodies. They didn't even look down. "… Two days, right?"  
"…You're just going to leave him there?"  
"… Yes. By the way…Is one side effect hysteria?"  
"… I see you've caught on to that. Yes, I didn't think of it at the time."  
"… You know, he looks awfully cute lying there. Makes his age show."  
"I didn't think he was sixteen at first."… Allen was tired of it now – pretending to be strangers. "…How's that young brother of yours?"  
"… Thanks Dimitri. Dunno why you went off the rails like that." Joshua sighed heavily. "I'm planning on adopting him. You know… his mom is really off those rails now."  
"I see. Are you really leaving him there?"  
"You expect anything else from me?"

_**And, That Night…**_

_Those images… memories… passing through my head again…such a simple case… so why did it confuse me so? I got it right first time… what if I had called the trial forward? What if I looked at my files? And… who was it? Who did I think I was really prosecuting…. I…Can't… Remember… What if I didn't meet Miles? Or Allen, for that matter… I really owe them my life, don't I? Well… this one at least… Why did they do that? Make me think I was prosecuting someone…_

_Eight Years Dead._

_I wake up with a start, with one sole thought in my head, passing my lips.  
_"Holy… that feels like a kick… Mein Gott…"

Memories Restored… However Unwanted.

Notes: Yes, the formula makes no sense. Hey, poetic licence, right?


	8. Private File - Personal

_**Breakdown**_

_**Chapter Eight**_

File: Analysis of Trial IM-79  
Access: **Personal – Level 0 – No Exceptions  
**Owner of File: **DePr Joshua Holmes**

**I. Introduction**  
It has recently come to my attention that I need to reflect on that first trial to be able to fully understand the Clive Dove case. Should you come to be reading this, I can assume one of two things – either, I have passed to another universe, or, I have skipped Europe for a period of 10 years. Now, this file will be stored within my personal archive. Unless it is of absolute importance to the safety of the general public, the contents of this file must not leave the archive – similarly, it may not be publically disclosed, including the House of Commons. In other words, in the event of my death, I leave the responsibility of this file to my D.C.I., with whom I have made arrangements to pass on access to this archive.

**II. Secret Managements  
**Firstly, within this file is my DNA trace. Note that as well as the standard G-C and A-T pairings, there is an additional set, labelled as 0-1. This has nothing to do with my genetics, but, rather, my origin. Joshua Holmes is indeed my name, but, for all intents and purposes, I am parentless. Neither am I an extra-terrestrial, nor a genetic experiment. To note any more would break a significant number of personal safety guidelines. My apologies. Just be aware that, when I die, I don't exactly pass on, but… move to another timeline. But, that is not important.

**III. The Second Day Of Investigation**

The first day I spent investigating the trial was not eventful – although I did have a suspect, I decided it would be best to continue my investigation into the next day, to ensure my evidence was absolute. Although I do roughly remember being jolted awake at some point that night, I cannot provide many more details. However, after performing both of the known tests, I can confirm that the un-licenced drug developed by the laboratory involved in Incident 932-T has contaminated my system at some point, in its disrupted form. However, I did wake up at the time at which I expected – soon after 0800 hours. Although I was still in possession of most of my evidence, I found three pieces missing – when I asked my supporting officer, he stated that the evidences couldn't be approved.

All DePr's are trained to expect such things, so I continued with my investigation – and, after respecting the area surrounding the crime scene, as I had planned, I found evidence supporting a different conclusion to my original decision.

Throughout the day, I will confess I experienced some strange symptoms – random losses in focus, random blackouts which weren't recognised by anyone else, slight lethargy, and random outbreaks in hysteria. Focus and Blackouts could be potentially explained by my origin; however, my opinion on the matter has changed radically. However, this is not the thing that has me at a true predicament. The person whom the evidence pointed to was, at the time, deceased. For eight years, in fact.

Claire Folley.

I think now, the reason I need to review this case is apparent. How could I have realistically accused a dead woman? Especially since this woman was provably dead – her corpse was there, after all. So, that means that I underwent some sort of high-tech VR case mock-up.

**IV. Retrospective**

Unfortunately, I feel unable to go into the trial at this present time. So, therefore, I must ask:

**-Who had the need to push away the guilt?**

**-Who had the power to run the VR?**

**-Why was the name `Claire Folley` used?**

**-What actually happened to the missing evidence?**

After looking into the lattermost question, I found an eventual answer – absolutely nothing. Apparently, they were still listed under the court rec. – yet, when I looked through my personal copy, I read no such thing. Conveniently, they were all on the final page of the evidence appendix. So, again, why was that so? In addition, even with my surprisingly high test scores, I did find it strange that my first case was a murder trial. Again, after looking this up, I found that a senior prosecutor was working on another trial completely.

I think I likely know what you are thinking. Am I accusing the current Prime Minister of Great Britain, Bill Hawks? Even though he fills all of the criteria above, the use of Claire's name makes the whole scheme far too obvious. However, doubtless, he is involved. The person whom I am thinking of, however, is heavily related to the House of Commons. This person has ample reason to use the name, namely, to shift the blame of this onto Bill – had the need to ensure that the case was declared guilty on someone else's part – had, in two respects, the power to run a simulation, and to push the evidence onto one page. Should I be wrong, naming this person in this file could be used as evidence against me in a case of High Treason – although I am not naming the Monarch, I'm not taking any risks.

**V. Conclusion (Only to be read on personal permission – Level 0 Protection)  
**If you are reading this part, I can trust you. I doubt I'm going to die any time soon – I have plenty of back-up plans, and shouldn't be in any danger of execution. But, to be honest, I'm scared. Scared as I've ever been. The moment I say what I want to say – I won't be able to turn back. This… is me. And… it's become apparent I need to rethink my life a little bit. Because, at the end of the day – this is my Last Hurrah. Goodbye, England. Maybe I'll see you again, but… not for a while. Hey, maybe I'll have a partner by then. But… in another universe, I know… I'll only ever fly over this place, on my own wings…

* * *

Behind him, Joshua heard an indistinct shuffling. Soon after, he was swiftly tackled to the ground, as predicted. "…42 and a half. Close enough. Hey Clive! Nice sleep?" The young boy's eyes focused on him. "… What! I needed to find some way of testing you for drugs-" He was cut off by a punch to his jaw. "I… think? I deserved that?" The other boy slowly calmed down, straightening himself up.  
"… Have you found out what all this is about yet?"  
"… Unfortunately. Clive Dove, I… Give you level zero access to my personal files – now, read it."

As he read through the file, his eyes darkened considerably. "I… see… but – how?"  
"I'm… not sure yet. But… I'm ready to go…"  
"… Can I come with you? To Germany, I mean?"  
"… If you want to. After all –"

"**My real Mother died – in an explosion."**


	9. 24 Hours Until Flight

**Breakdown  
Chapter Nine:  
Dawn Of the Final Day: Twenty-Four Hours Until Flight  
**_**Pursuit Of The Truth**_

(I would recommend listening to `Trauma Team OST: The Dead Shall Speak` for this one.)

"This… is it, I suppose. The end to this little story. I would have preferred to be more complex, you know? There's something damn unsatisfying about, `It was the butler. ` But, then again, you can't really help it, can you? That which we are, we are. `One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak, by time, and fate`. Oh, have I had plenty of that. And, perhaps… I'm happy. Oh, I loved London – so, so much. But… This place is still covered in smog. No matter where you go, there is always smoke, obscuring the crime, brushing it aside. But… London might be the worst, on occasion. Not long left now. So… Let's get this over with.

Firstly, I would like to present one man's report on the weaponry used within the machine. It was noted as decidedly similar to a weapon a certain criminal syndicate was constructing, namely Targent. As people here may, or may not be aware, the leader of Targent three years ago was one Leonel Bronev. He has since been arrested, and imprisoned. However … It turns out, that, even beyond his own knowledge, he may have simply been leading the ground forces. My evidence? Leonel's abduction. He was forced into the group, absorbed within it. Obviously, at the time, there must have been a higher leader. However, what's really was interesting was the nature of his promotion. He was elected. His predecessor, he knows not by name, and he was simply told that he had moved on. No death, no nothing. So… how was the space open, unless he retired? And, why would someone retire – other than to remove themselves from the limelight? However, it appears that Targent has returned to its ways from before Bronev's election, so… they're back.

Secondly, I want to note the nature of Clive, the supposed culprit's med files. They state a number of things quite clearly, including one very unique one – incapable of inflicting violence due to childhood trauma. True, he wanted his revenge on one Bill Hawks – due to his later discoveries during his collaborations, not so much Dimitri… But, he wanted to do it the way I'd do it. Psychological breakdown. He wanted to show Bill what pain feels like, however clichéd that statement may be. He wanted Bill to watch as the entirety of London fell. Or, see London Fallen… Whatever his motive – in no way was it murder. So, what was the true motive behind this plan?

Some would say World Domination – but, given the scale of the machine, and its brute force, I'd wager something much darker than that – World Reset – to raze everything, human or otherwise, to the ground. And, why would someone want to do that? Insanity? Tiredness? Boredom? In a sense, all three of them – but, at the same time, none, because… this person is fully sane – too sane in fact – happy with the way things are going, and in no way bored by the world. But… Obsessed. Agreeing. Ready for change.

I searched the ruins of the London set yesterday. Including the bits and bobs of the machine. I saw the pilot seat. Strewn around it were small parts of padded metal, designed to fit in the chair, and quickly retract, In fact, designed so, that one could fit one particular sixteen-year-old into the seat in an alert, upright position, without him noticing. I think you all see where I'm going. He was placed in that seat by a third party. But why? Well, in a side door, in the `Thames` underpass… well, it was safe to say, I found something interesting. A perfectly designed, and constructed, simulation machine. Sadly, the data had been removed. As was to be expected, after all, the data was protected just in case I would find it and analyse it. However, I can wager it was for the war machine, destroying the simple London. After anylising the chamber, I found what I wanted. A strand of hair, with Clive Dove's DNA.

So… Clive was set up. So, the stage is set. As I said, I got a relative expert to examine the machine. When they looked at the designs for the machine, he noticed one major difference. In the weaponry, a certain type of technology was implemented – the reasoning behind the sudden boost in scientists working on the project. So, Layton – enlighten us. What do you thing was the difference?"  
"… Azran Technology."

"Indeed. Azran Technology. So, we have all our evidence. A will for global destruction, being the head of a criminal syndicate, and access to files on the Azran, Virtual Reality Technology, and, I think, access to the courtroom records as well. And, you know what? I am not accusing the Prime minister."

After that long rant, Joshua carefully eyed everyone around the room. Layton. Dimitri. Hawks. Luke. Clive. Flora. Chelmey. He was about to indict one of them as the killer. In sixty seconds, everything would change. One giant curveball would be thrown into his life, and that of everyone in this room.

_This is it now. No going back on this. This is my last time I'll get to do this in this country – for a long while at least. I wonder… was this all worth it? So it began… and so it will end. Thirty seconds left. The clock in the corner is clanking, clanging, smashing. Twenty seconds. Once more – onto the breach. Once again – onto higher adventures. _

… _Fifteen Seconds._

"… I'm sure now. Only one person in this room could have possibly done this, and perhaps not get away with it - but I don't think this person particularly cares. Their plan, after all, failed.

Greetings… Our Winner. And our Loser. Most importantly, our Mole.  
I name thee…"

_**To Be Concluded…**_


	10. Curtain Rise Enter, Stage Left

_**Breakdown  
Chapter Ten: I Know Not What Magic I Cast**_

_**CAUTION: Slight Half-Homo Joke here**_

_The Mole is the one whom doesn't make sense, whom doesn't fit in, who is the subject of a contradiction, who is where they shouldn't be. Did anyone notice? I told you – and I swear now… that it wasn't Bill Hawks – And yet, I listed - Layton. Dimitri. __**Hawks.**__ Luke. Clive. Flora. Chelmey. Do you get it now? I cannot accuse and clear the same person, for the same crime. Yet… somehow, I am. Unless, the obvious – in one way, is seen. _

"I Name Thee… Caroline Hawks, original founding member and current leader of the criminal syndicate, Targent!" Everyone shocked, other than the woman sitting in the corner of the room, at the end of the pointing finger. She merely raised an eyebrow, to Joshua's amusement. "Well, I see someone's smart. You get the pointer finger, and immediately know that you may as well resign."  
She sat there, silenced for a few seconds. When she opened her mouth, her voice was slightly lower than how it was usually, and her voice was slow and methodical. "Indeed so, Prosecutor. I will warn you, it would be difficult to get me indicted… but, since there are no reliable witnesses here, I'll give you what you want." She slid her hand into her pocket, pressing something. All of a sudden, the room was filled with small pockets of smoke. An EMP. Well, it would be expected. "Indeed it is so… I am the founding member of Targent. However, I must also point out… this means nothing in the destruction of London…"

"Unless I can irrevocably tie Targent to the crime. I think… I can guess how this wor-"  
"What the devil is this? Cease at once! I could get you deported easily!"  
"Already being deported." He spoke tiredly, as Bill interrupted the duel.  
"Executed!"  
"When I'm in Germany?"  
"I'm sure they would co-operate." He held an air of tightness around him.  
"Unless I was on good terms with the PM's son." He giggled darkly. "Very good terms…"

_A flashback to a night during a case where he was invited to stay with the PM and his 18-year-old as well son at the Police Department after a particularly stressing case – which soon turned into a wrestling match to see whose neck they could get the reddest. Ah, that was hilarious. "Ha! `And we still had intact clothes on the entire time! Wrinkled, but intact! `" Joshua nervously rubbed at the scruff of his neck, where the reddest mark was left. It was still rather pink – then again, the other had the same. Not to mention he came from up there as well. No repercussion. _

He was snapped out of his flashback by Caroline coughing quietly. "Ah! Yes… indeed… what I was going to say was… I think I can guess how we're going to play this out. One piece of evidence, right? One Piece of evidence to irrevocably tie the syndicate to the Crime?"  
"… That's just what I was thinking. Do your best… one piece is not sufficient though, yes?"  
"… One Piece of Evidence? Oh, I agree. Impossible. But, doing it with no evidence at all… is quite straight forward." They both looked at each other resolutely in the eye… and the game had officially started.

Joshua closed his eyes, starting to consider his options here.  
"The reason I said that evidence was hard… was that, with even one piece of evidence, it would prove that Targent actually didn't commit the crime, simply because… a syndicate of that size, would ensure not to leave something behind… one thing… hacking traces. Because, after all, that's the only way to control it remotely – but, as I full well know, the only way a computer can be accessed is through a connection of some form. And, Clive would know this as well, and, as such, wouldn't install an internet wireless connection, or, as it happens, a wireless transceiver. As it would seem, he installed a communications system to be able to contact other people around the machine. However – he also placed a standard radio system all over the place. And, if you were to use a wireless connection for things like that, then it seems extremely extraneous… to have every single system in that place wired together."

"Somewhat impressive… but, still, one piece of evidence. Give me one piece of evidence that fits all of your cute, little, theory together."  
All of a sudden, Joshua's smile broke into a grin. "Well, as I said… you wouldn't leave evidence… you keep it around… which is why… I want you to turn out your top right pocket."  
Her face flushed white. "Lucky guess?"  
"… Strategy. Or, rather, symbolism. Because, the evidence I'm looking for… is essential to your life… and, well, it's like an inhaler for you. And… that's where you put it. Later today… you would put on a show… of fainting, and the First Aider would check your pocket, finding you're inhaler… and, immediately, they would be forced to dispose of the main, empty cartridge…"

And the game was well and truly up. Slowly, smiling politely, she removed the inhaler from her pocket, and handed it over. Joshua twisted away the cap, revealing a bulky USB memory stick. Quickly, he tossed the stick over to Chelmey, who looked on, confused. "On that stick… are two stories…one of the Azran Legacy, and its endowment of potential destruction… and the other, is of a dystopian past, of lies, and deceit. These are stories that are powerful. Stories… often are. These ones have leaked into the events of this world. But, at the end of the day…

"**The Best Laid Plans O' Mice And Men, Go Oft Awry"**


	11. Exit Stage Right Onwards

_**Breakdown**_

_**Chapter 11: Clarification  
**__(Recommended Music: Prepared To Do Anything – Sherlock Series 2… The first half, anyways.)__**  
**_

"This case was neither mind breaking nor tiresome, really. But, the threads were indeed all tightly wound around each other. One wrong snip and all the confining threads would snap away in one direction, away from the truth. To best explain this, I'd best start from the beginning.

The time, comparative, was about twenty minutes before that one confrontation. As we all know, Clive was away from the group for an uncertain amount of time, due to being `called away`. Obviously, many though that this would be to talk with Dimitri Allen. And, to an extent, this was true. Dimitri was still unaware of the scare monger plan, naturally, but… it matters not. Because, shortly after this conversation… well, it was a simple job really. Blowdart, twenty meters away, angled down, needle coated with local anaesthetic, tipped with a decent amount of Compound DX912. Not enough to trigger the full blown effect, but enough for the drug to begin to settle in his brain.

And there comes the symptom. Delirium. In a matter of minutes, he became withdrawn. Soon after, he became insane. So, he went as far as to take a hostage… which was his mistake. That made it incredibly easy to have an exact pinpoint – a witness. The moment that she was locked into that cage, he ran to set on the ignition… and that activated the `Time Machine's` power source, destabilising the drug, and I think we call all guess what happened there. Now, to show this entire thing was deceptively simple. The moment the power supply was activated and the anaesthetic activated, Targent got to work. They all moved in on Clive, and his two closest `minions`, ensuring they were also knocked out, and moved Clive well away from the machine – discreetly, down into the Thames Tunnel. Into that simulation chamber. Meanwhile, as Layton and the others saw Clive in the ship… it was a simple matter of producing a hologram… or even a water projection… that would still work. But that's beside the point. In the control room, one of the leaders of Targent, not Caroline, was busy lining up the hook-shot's.

Because Caroline was there to ensure that Clive was knocked out the moment he uttered that final word. After all, following that, it would be only a matter of seconds to get Clive up to the control room to finish this charade. My bet? Air pocket in the foot of the machine, basic air pressure pulling Clive up into an area near the control room. And, now, that chair, with the spting loaded arms, designed to exactly fit Clive's stature? It was as simple as sliding him in. And then, the exact moment he woke up, trigger loud noise from the ship, not abnormally so, and wake him up. All of a sudden, you have a little kid who thinks he's making a political statement."

The blond across the room sighed. "Whatever you say, Josh. Still… I must admit, I'm a tad confused. I still feel like holding back."  
"… Why are you even in this universe, eh?"  
"Well, until you get an actual boyfriend, I have to stick around. Anyways… what was the motive?"

"Well, How do you expect me to know? I wasn't going to pry that far. I'd say Pangaea, though. If the Azran civilisation did actually exist, it would have to be in Pangaea. It's the only place in which the civilisation could actually be one unit. This, due to the unified language, has to be true – to an extent. If she, in control of the syndicate – well, organisation, wanted to recreate the Azran civilisation – she would need to be able to not only eliminate any and all possible threats, but be able to entirely reconstruct the planet into one single continent – so atom bombs and other technology – ain't good enough. And, well… the Azran Civilisation was more humble than any 21st century civilisation I've ever seen. Imagine the crap that we'll have with such a civilisation."  
"We'd do rather well… oh, wait, we do." The Marksman sitting across him fiddled with a feather smiling at him nervously.  
"Stop, just in case your `father` hears."  
"He didn't mind last time."  
"Well, if you really want to switch… can we do it upstairs?"  
The German PM's son, or, at least, the person addressing that persona, wiggled his eyebrows jokingly. His wings were already half out.

**Notes: For those confused, that paragraph was about my excuse to be able to transfer characters between universes. Basically, Joshua and the other boy belong to a… over-heaven if you like, which is a bit like Gallifrey, except people can actually be bothered to do something. **


End file.
